Panic Prone
by Finn21
Summary: After seeing Haley's tattoo, Nathan decides he wants one of those bad boys for his own. But throw in a fear of needles and an annoying best friend named Tim and things don't go exactly as planned. Set in S1 after TWIT.


**Title:** Panic Prone

**Author:** Ashley

**Genre: **Comedy/Fluff

**Summary:** After seeing Haley's tattoo, Nathan decides he wants one of those bad boys for his own. But throw in a fear of needles and an annoying best friend named Tim and things don't go exactly as planned. Set in S1 after TWIT.

**Author's Note:** I don't usually do this but I decided to go ahead and make this fic in First Person POV for Nathan. I just thought it would be cool to get inside his head throughout this experience and see what he was thinking and how he was feeling. I know some people aren't huge fans of FP POV, but maybe you'll go ahead and give it a shot anyway, just for fun.

_This is for Bekah!_

**PANIC PRONE**

I stared at the gothic crosses, the bubbled hearts with ribbons attached to them reading 'I Love Mom', the green colored dragons with knife's through their belly's and every color of butterfly under the damn rainbow. Each image plastered in front of me in an endless sea of pictures that varied from sweet and pretty to fucking badass prison garb material. Every inch of the room was completely covered.

I, myself had been staring at a particular heart over to the far left of the wall, the words 'Natasha Forever' embossed into the image with bloody rose thorns wrapped around the outside of it. I pictured Haley's name in place of Natasha's and suddenly got a very real, very heavy sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. There was no way in hell I wanted a rose-thorn-covered-heart with Haley's name and the word 'forever' permanently etched into my body for all time. The word forever implies for all time, yes, that's not what bothered me. It was the thought that my body could be permanently marked with that particular image, that made me all of a sudden very uncomfortable.

I tried to reason with myself that I came to this specific tattoo parlor and sat down in this specific chair with the intent to actually permanently mark my body, just as Haley had permanently marked hers. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. I had thought that this was what I wanted, but now I wasn't so sure. In fact I was feeling kind of nausea to tell the truth. That uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach wore into me until little droplets of sweat began to pool along my hairline at a faster pace than I could wipe them away. And as I felt my face begin to flush, one solitary drop fell off my forehead and straight into my eye.

Son-of-bitch, that hurt.

Swiping my clenched hand over my face I angrily rubbed at my eye until the stinging began to subside. I sucked in what was supposed to be a calming breath and tried to clear my head. From the corner of the room I could hear footsteps-loud crunchy, heavy footsteps coming my way. I let my eyes fall to the ground and could see through a mirror on the back wall of the room, Talan's black scuffed up biker boots heading my way.

Oh yeah, that's right, the guy who was supposed to be giving me my tattoo was named Talan. How completely, perfectly, cliché was that? I could feel my stomach churn again. The room was becoming awfully hot. Too hot, really. I need some fresh air. Like now.

But before I could even move one inch forward, Talan, six feet, seven inches with white blonde spike-y hair and arms completely covered in undistinguishable tattoo's slammed into the free moving chair beside me and gave me a quick once over. His top lip curled into what I could only assume, amongst the many piercings in his mouth, was a smirk; and in my Nike tennis shoes and white polo, I suddenly felt like a reject from the Abercrombie and Fitch catalogue.

This was just not my element.

"Where would you like it, man," Talan asked from beside me and sadly I have to admit, I jumped a little in my seat.

The urge to bolt out of there was overwhelming but I forced myself to stay still in the chair I was spread out in, even though my feet began to take upon a life of their own--fidgeting around in a sporadic, unrhythmic motion.

"Um...on my upper left shoulder," I reached my right arm over and patted my back indicating that's where I wanted the tattoo.

He nodded and then waited, looking at me expectantly. Why? I didn't know. When neither of us moved for a few minutes he sighed and pursed his lips together. "I need you to remove your shirt, so I can start," he smiled at me tightly. The most horrifying, unkind smile that I'd ever seen. It was gnarly.

"Oh right," I sputtered stupidly. "Yeah, um, okay."

I looped my hands under the bottom of my shirt and pulled it over my head, just as I heard him turn on the tattoo needle...thing, whatever the hell it's called. I swallowed hard in my throat and tried to not start biting my nails like a damn pussy. I didn't know it would sound so loud, hell I didn't know needles like that made any noise at all. Was it supposed to be that loud? It was really loud.

Talan gestured for me to turn in my seat so that he could prep me with rubbing alcohol. We had already discussed what I wanted my tattoo to be, and so he'd said when I talked to him on the phone earlier that morning it should only take about twenty minutes to draw.

Draw. It sounded like such a simple word. You know, the kind of thing you do when you're a kid in Kindergarten with markers and crayons and shit like that. It never really occurred to me that when he said draw, he really meant poke me a million times with a buzzing needle that'll bloody my back and scar me for the rest of my life!

"Now this might sting a little," he muttered, busying himself with adjusting the needle.

A little? Yeah right. That thing looked like it could carve a hole through my brain if he wanted it to. "A little how," I asked, my voice soft, much softer than I would've preferred in that moment.

He scratched his head, his eyes bored. "Like a mild bee sting or a bug bite. It's not bad."

"Got it," I nodded, feeling him scoot closer to me in his chair. His hand inches from my back. That needle inches from my back. So close I could already picture it jabbing huge canyon sized gashes into my skin. I thought I might throw up. I'm serious. I wanted to come off as cool, I did. But the closer that fucking needle got to my back all thoughts of Haley and that sexy tattoo of hers with my jersey number vanished from my mind. And I knew if I didn't get away from this guy in the next ten seconds I was going to pass out like a little girl.

"You know what," I jumped out of the chair unsteadily. "I um...I changed my mind. I need to think about what I want to get some more. You know, make sure it's what I really want so I don't regret it later."

That was a lie. From the moment I'd seen Haley's tattoo, that small black 23, set just above her ass in a way that made my pants tight just thinking about it–I knew I wanted one for myself. It had happened about a week ago after one of the team's home games. I'd convinced her to come back to my apartment from some lame party we were at and we started to make out. Things got a little carried away and so we–well actually she–decided to take a break. In the process of her putting her t-shirt back on over her tank top I saw it. I don't know how long she'd had it, or why she got it. I have a few guesses, but nothing for sure. And it's not really important why she got it, I suppose, but that she did.

Something that permanent, something that would be on her forever, she could of chose anything she wanted... and she chose my jersey number. I'm not gonna lie, because at first I freaked. I didn't know what to do with it, I didn't know if I should even say anything or wait for her to tell me. But after awhile, the more I pictured her naked body with just my number painted on her back, well...I got turned on. Really, _really_ turned on. And I determined in that moment that I wanted one too. A few nights later I sat down and wrote out a list of different things I could get that would relate to Haley. Things like her birthday, or her name (first, then first and last), her initials, even her different nicknames.

Yeah, I'm a fucking pansy. I know it. I even wrote that option down at the end of the list too. P.A.N.S.Y. in big capital letters. I'd get it tattooed right on my left ass cheek, just so all the guys in gym could see it and get their laughs.

"Look," I shook my head, easing back away from the chair to the front door, "sorry about this man, but I'm gonna have to do this another time. "Sorry," I reached the front door and inched my way out as he continued to stare at me in irritation. "Um...yeah, sorry."

I stuck the key to my apartment in the lock about fifteen minutes later, ready to plop down on my couch, play some playstation and forget this entire day happened when I felt someone come up behind me and smack me on the back.

"So let me see it baller."

"What the fuck?" I spun around, a little taken off guard and scowled at the person behind me. "Christ Tim. The word's called 'Hello' try it the next time you sneak up on me."

I didn't mean to come off as such a prick, but I hated it when he just pounced on me like that and hovered. He always hovers and it's annoying as hell.

"Did I scare you Nate," he smiled at me gleefully. Trying to play it off as an accident. "My bad dawg."

I shoved the door to my apartment open and blew inside, leaving him behind to follow. The urge to punch him in the face was overwhelming, but I simply rolled my eyes and pushed out an exhausted sigh. "Remember how we had that talk about you being white dude? Yeah, well it still applies."

"Damn. Someone's a little touchy today. You and tutor-ho get into a fight," he came up and leaned on the island in the kitchen as I went to grab a drink from the refrigerator.

I turned my head and looked back at him. It probably shouldn't irritate me the way it does when Tim refers to Haley a 'tutor-ho', 'tutor-bitch', 'tutor-lips', or 'tutor-Nazi'– seeing as he never says them to her, and I know he really means nothing by it. But still...The words ho and bitch in association with her make my jaw clench, because she is neither of those things. And so I can't help the involuntary glare that I shoot his way after he's spoken, causing him to tumble back a few steps like a doofus.

"I mean Haley. Sorry," he mumbled out meekly, and I laugh to myself. He's so easy to mess with.

I grab my drink and close the fridge, watching Tim walk over and mimic my actions. "No me and _Haley _didn't have a fight. Not that it's any of your business," I snapped and he raised his arms in surrender.

"Woah! Alright, message received man." He walked up next to me now and looked at me expectantly for a few seconds. "So come on, let me see it."

I had no idea what is going in that little brain of his, and frankly I didn't want to know. But I couldn't help myself from asking the obvious. "See what? What are you talking about?"

Tim smiled and placed his hands on his hips, as if he was about to tell me the greatest story of all time. "Well...me and Vegas were driving down Clark on our way to Zach's about an hour ago when we saw you walking into that tattoo joint down the street. I didn't know you were in the market for a tat Nate. But I know you have one now, so come on and let me see it," he scooted even closer to me, reaching up and around as he began to lift my shirt, looking up my back like a hungry dog. What a revolting thought.

"Hands Tim, "I yelled, and hurriedly grabbed onto his wrists pushing his arms away with more force than was probably necessary "Dammit. Remember that other talk we had about touching. As in you not touching me off the basketball court. Or EVER."

He jumped back. "Okay! Okay.. But come on man, I'm dyin' here...let me see it"

"See what?"

"The. Tattoo. Duh. Weren't you even listening to what I was saying?"

I blew out another long sigh and walked toward my couch intent to sit down. "I was trying not to. No," I answered, and could feel him still attempting to look down my shirt as I sit down. I swatted him away like a fly. "Tim stop it. Now. I didn't get one, so you can quit trying to peek down my shirt like a fuckin' homo."

"I'm not a homo," he muttered sadly. And then felt I bad. Great.

"Sorry...or...whatever. Just stop looking, all right? I didn't get one."

With the rebound rate of a puppy, he plopped down beside me on the couch, his eyes full of excitement once more. "Why not?"

"Because..." I answered not wanting to tell him how I not so smoothly ran out of the tattoo shop all but flailing my arms and screaming at the top of my lungs like some blonde bimbo in a bad horror flick.

"Because...why," he prodded.

"Because I didn't."

He scoffed. "That's not a real reason. That's like a Mom reason Nate. You can't just say 'because'...that's lame. You obviously had a reason you went in there to get one, and then you changed your mind...unless someone else you know is getting a tattoo and you were with them. But then they would have gone in with you and I didn't see anyone going in with you...unless you pulled up to the building and let them out, then went around to park and–

"ENOUGH," I barked, unable to handle anymore of his incoherent babble. "Yes I went in by myself. No I didn't get a tattoo. And no, nobody else knew I was there. I thought I wanted one but sort of changed my mind at the last second. Okay!"

"What do you mean you 'sort of' changed your mind," he pushed, and I knew, I just knew he wasn't going to give up until I told him the whole goddamn truth.

"I got," I stopped and stared at him with deadly seriousness. "I swear to God man if you tell anyone else I said this they'll be mopping your balls up off the concrete for a week. I got... a little freaked out by the needle. I hate needles. So I backed out at the last second," I shoved a rough hand though my hair. " I was in the tattoo parlor Tim, and I chickened out! Go ahead: cluck at me. I deserve it and I know you want to. So come on...go ahead and do it."

I peered at him through the corner of my eye, to see a Cheshire cat smile spread wide from the very corners of his face. When he caught me looking at him he burst into laughter. "Oh! OHHHHHH," he cried, grabbing his stomach and pointing at me as more laughs bubbled out of him like damn hyena. "This...this is just...wow I don't even know what this is, but it's great. It's better than great..." he trailed off trying to collect himself as I forced myself not to smack the funny off his face.

"What's better than great?"

At the sound of Haley's voice in my doorway we both spun in our seats to look at her. I immediately pushed off the couch and went to greet her, pulling her into my arms and pressing my lips firmly against hers, trying to forget the annoying ass of a clown I call my best friend.

"Hey," I breathed into her mouth, running my hands up her back into her hair. She smiled up at me and giggled.

"Hey," she replied softly, rubbing her right hand up and down my arm, making me forget all the other shitty things that had happened that day, that week, anything ever. I moved to kiss her again when she pulled back and cocked her head to the side, to look past me at the couch. "Hi Tim."

I wanted to groan at her acknowledgment of him, because nothing good ever came from giving Tim attention. And I mean nothing.

"What's up Haley? How are you doing on this lovely, _lovely_ day," he grinned at her, much calmer than he'd been moments before. He walked up beside both of us, his eyes gleaming in that way of his I recognized all too well. I tightened my hold around Haley's body. Hoping to shield her from his stupidity.

"I'm–I'm good. And you," she answered him sweetly, while I glared at him, warning him to be careful.

He winked at me, honest to God winked at me, and then smiled back at Haley. "I'm fantastic. Thank you so much for asking."

She turned to look at me then, confusion set on her face. Her brow was furrowed slightly, her eyes questioning, as if asking me 'what the hell is up with him?'. I tried to shrug it off with a smile, and she shook her head.

"O-kay. So what are you guys up to," she eyed the drinks on the coffee table in front of my couch. "Did I interrupt male bonding time with the playstation? Should I come back later?"

"Well–

"NO!" I blurted out quickly, tightening my hold around her body once again and shaking my head vigorously. "No, no, no, no, no. Actually, Tim here was just getting ready to leave. Weren't you Tim?"

"Not really," he answered in an innocent tone, and I seriously thought about never, ever talking to him again. He took a step closer and patted me on the back. "See Haley, what my buddy Nate is trying to say is that he's got something he's been wanting to tell yo--

I didn't know where he'd got the balls, or the courage to try and spit out what I'd just told him not to, and I didn't care. I was putting an end to this now. "If you value your life at all man, you'll walk out that door right now, before I shove my foot up your ass and out through that fat mouth of yours."

To Tim's credit, he did appear to be a little frightened by my words as he took a few steps back. Haley pulled herself from my arms, her eyes worried.

"Did I miss something? Because I'm sensing a lot of hostility and I don't know why?"

"Actually, it all started when me and Vegas were driving down Clark on our way to Za–

And that was my breaking point. "OUT! Now," I grabbed onto his shirt collar, completely done with him and his punk-ass. "Out right now. Go, get out," I barked, hauling him to the door, opening it, and shoving him onto the front stoop.

"Nate...,"

"Bye Tim," I slammed the door and turned around, taking a quick breath. Haley looked at me like I was out of my fucking mind, and I didn't much blame her. From her point of view it probably seemed like I'd just gone ape-shit on my best friend in the span of a couple minutes for no reason at all. But that was only because she didn't know the back story. She didn't need to know the back story. Nobody did, really. And I would make sure Tim was clear on that matter later on.

"Okay. Umm...I, uh...don't even, um...What just happened here," Haley scratched at her head confused, looking at me helplessly, completely lost. It was so sexy. But most things about her are.

I sighed long and hard, as I walked up and pulled her back into my arms, tucking her head underneath my chin. "It's a long story with a stupid ending, that I'll tell you about some other day. For now let's just forget it."

She arched her head up to meet my eyes. "Are you sure because–

I caught her mouth with mine, silencing her. I sucked her bottom lip into my mouth, to savor her sweet taste, and felt her reach up and press her hands against the nape of my neck to pull my head closer to hers. I leaned down farther, letting my tongue slide into her mouth, and enveloping her body in my arms, to push our bodies together. Air became a needed necessity after a few minutes and we both slowly pulled back.

I was about to say something else when I heard my front door crack open again.

"Ask him about the tattoo parlor," Tim's voice quickly spouted out, and then disappeared down the walkaway and onto the stairs, where I could hear that stupid hyena laugh of his lingering behind him.

My whole body tensed at the realization that he'd done it. He'd revealed my secret. I'd told him not to and he'd come back and done it anyway.

"Argh! I'm gonna beat his ass to the ground," I spit at the window, considering where I should bury his body after I was done mutilating it beyond recognition. Fucking bitch.

Haley stilled for a brief moment and then stepped out of my grasp, no longer looking blissed by our kiss, or even confused as she was before, but now skeptical and on alert. "What is he talking about Nathan? What's going on?"

I turned to her a little less angry and puffed out a laugh. Afraid to do anything else. "Nothing. It's nothing. Tim's just being a shithead as usual. It's nothing. Really."

Her eyes narrowed. "Liar."

"Haley..."

She placed her hands on her hips and began tapping her foot on the ground. Never a good sign for the male species. "Spill it Scott."

I sighed.

"...And then you came in, and you know the rest from there," I said, finally finishing the longest story of my entire life. I ran a hand through my hair and let my head fall to the pillow behind me. In the time it had taken me to retell Haley all the inane details of my trip to and from the tattoo parlor, I'd managed to convince her to come sit on my bed with me, citing that if I had to relive this horrible ass crack of a day, I at least wanted to do it in the comfort of my own bed.

It was about half way through the story, when I'd gotten to the part about Talan asking me to take off my shirt, and hearing the terrifying buzzing of the needle that she'd finally relaxed, falling into my arms, and listening to the rest of the tale in wild (and to my surprise, quiet) amusement.

She hadn't said anything now that I was done, but I could feel her squirming under my embrace, her face tightly pressed against my chest, as we lay together in my bed.

"What?"

"Nothing," she mumbled into my shirt, her body trembling all over. I reached up and caught her chin pulling it away from my body. My eyes widened, my mouth dropping open.

"Are you...Are you laughing at me," I bent my head down to see her silently chuckling, her bodying shaking all over with heavy tremors. I was offended.

"I'm sorry," she giggled, covering her mouth. "I just--I didn't know my boyfriend was such a...a scared-y cat, when came to needles. Of all things."

She began laughing again, pressing her face back into my chest to stifle the sound. I frowned. My girlfriend had just called me a wussy. To my face. Damn. Now I really was offended.

"Oh, you think that's funny do you?"

"Yes I do," she stated with conviction, more laughs bubbling up out of her throat.

There was no way I was going to let that go, so I reached down and ran my hands over her stomach and under her arms She immediately jumped up and tried to wiggle away from my grasp. "Hey! Hey, no tickling. Nathan," she squealed, grabbing a hold of my comforter to pull herself up. But I trapped her arms above her head with one hand, my other hand roaming all over her body in quick movements that had her twisting and turning, as her eyes were clamped tight with laughter.

"Nathan, stop," she pleaded with another giggle. "Stop, please."

"Tell me you don't think it's funny." I began to trace circles on the sensitive area under her neck, trailing down to her sides. "Say it."

"I think it's funny," she called, and stuck her tongue out at me. I tried to grab for it but she pulled it in too quickly and so I began to tickle her harder, causing her to arch her body up off the bed. "AH! I think... No I don't think it's funny. I don't. I don't...I said I don't Nathan, stop. Please stop," she begged.

"HA HA! Victorious," I sang, dropping her arms and flopping down beside her on the bed again, pumping my fists up in the air. She sucked in a long breath, her chest heaving, my eyes drawn to it instantly.

"You're unfair," she mumbled out and shot me a quick glare. I ran my hand softly across her face and gave her a good quality smirk.

"That'll teach you to laugh at me next time."

She pushed at my hand and scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Men. Ugh, you're all such big babies when it comes to your pride. My God. Should I stroke your ego now? Tell you how strong and sexy and fearless you are? How you always make me feel safe and protected?"

My smirk grew into a full out grin. "Well that's always good to hear, but you could also stroke my di–

She slapped her hand over my mouth, her eyes warning. "I would seriously reconsider finishing that sentence if I were you."

I smiled into her hand, pressing a gentle kiss against the inside of her palm. Her eyes softened at this, her hand falling from my lips. I captured it in my own hand, and used it to pull her to me, molding our bodies together again as I tangled my fingers in her hair. Our kiss was more heated this time, our mouths crushed together, as our tongues fought against each other. I let my hands linger down her back to just above her ass where I knew my number sat. I so badly wanted to touch it, to lick it, to brush my lips upon her skin.

"Let me see it," I whispered against her neck, trailing wet kisses up her jaw. I glanced up at her quickly, to see her eyes hazy and dark. She looked at me confused.

"Your tattoo," I breathed. "Let me see it."

She froze in my arms, her expression becoming more aware. It took her a moment, but then it was as if she realized what I had really said, a thousand questions going through her mind and showing in her eyes. I could read every one of them_: Should I show it to him? What's he thinking? How did he find out about it? Why didn't he say anything earlier?_ _What do I do now?_

I cupped her cheek in my hand and kissed her gently, urging her to turn over. "Let me see it," I repeated, and she bit down on her bottom lip, looking at me nervously. I smiled at her, the softest smile I could muster to let her know it was okay--whatever she was thinking, whichever one of those questions she was currently running through her head–-it was all okay with me. I wanted to see her tattoo.

She looked as if she was about to say something, but then changed her mind, turning slightly in my arms so that I could get a better view of her back side. Slowly, she reached down and pulled the bottom of her shirt up her back, letting me get a good look at it for the first time.

It was hot.

My brain told me to say something to her, something sweet and romantic that would let her know how beautiful I thought it was–how beautiful I thought she was. But my newly risen erection told me to fuck talking and get into action. It wasn't much of a fight.

Eagerly I leaned down and placed an open-mouthed kiss against the small 23, grabbing the sides of her hips tightly. She quivered against my touch, a small moan escaping her lips. A smiled spread across my face, and I leaned down even closer to repeat the action again, this time letting my tongue brush ever so lightly over the outside of the number.

"Nathan..." she mewled, her face pushed into one of my pillows, her hands firmly gripping it. I couldn't help but smile again. Knowing I could drive her crazy this way, make her feel things no man had ever made her feel before, it was like a drug I just couldn't get enough of.

"God," I placed another wet kiss on her back, tracing the 23 with my tongue. "Seeing this baby, you have no idea what it does to me."

She pulled her head from the pillow to lock her eyes with mine. "So you like it?"

"_Like it? _" I exclaimed. "I love it! Actually I'm in love with it," I replied and she smiled at me brightly.

"Well good," she flipped over into a sitting position next to me and pushed her lips into mine. "Because it's not going anywhere, any time soon."

"That is good," I nodded and moved to kiss her again, when she turned away. "What?"

She jumped off my bed, and held her hand up, her index finger extended. "Hold on. I have an idea."

I wasn't sure what she planned to do that could've been better than what we were already doing, but I lay still on my bed regardless and waited for her to return. She came back in a few minutes later with an excited expression in her eyes and a magic marker in her hand. I gave her a curious look, and she smiled, telling me to take my shirt off and lay down on my stomach. I did it without question. I never argue when she asks me to undress. I can't. It's like an unwritten law or commandment somewhere in the world, I'm sure: Thou shall not remain clothed when Haley James requests nakedness.

"So what would you like," she asked, popping the lid off the magic marker. The one I now assumed was going to be used to draw on my back.

"Whatever you want," I answered, amused, and stretched my arms out in front of me under the pillow I was laying my head on.

"Whatever I want, hmm? How does a portrait of Tim sound? Right here in the middle of your back, yeah," she traced her hand down my shoulder blades to the exact spot she had my number branded above her ass.

I turned my head from the pillow and scowled at her. "I wouldn't want to have to hurt you Haley. I really wouldn't. So don't even joke like that."

She laughed. "Fine. I guess you'll just have to be surprised then."

I moaned into my pillow, and pushed out a long breath. "Mmm. This feels so good. You ever consider going into massage therapy, Hales? It could be your calling.

She chuckled and ran one hand up and down my back, working the flesh on my shoulders, as her other hand drew lines and shapes and God knows what else on my back. "I think I might consider it if it meant I got to rub the backs of hot men all day–

"I change my mind," I cut in, not liking the thought of her touching anyone else. "Massaging me is all the massaging you need to be doing.

"–but," she continued, as if I'd never said anything, "seeing as that probably wouldn't be the case, I think I'll pass. I don't want to rub any wrinkly old lady skin. As nice as they are, I just don't think I could stand it."

I smiled as the silence fell between us again. For the last half an hour, she'd been drawing various designs on my back, alternately massaging and writing on me. And I have to admit it was the most relaxing thing I'd ever experienced. Every now and then I wondered what she was thinking about, if she wondered why I hadn't questioned her about the tattoo at all, but mostly I just let the feeling of her hands wash over me. Pulling me into a quiet euphoria that I wanted to stay in forever.

I felt the cool tip of the marker flow across my lower back for a minute and then move up to my shoulder blades, where she'd been working on something for a while now. She paused as if in thought, I suppose, and then all of a sudden I heard a quiet gasp.

I pushed up from my pillow. "What? What's wrong?"

She shook her head, and smiled, urging me to lay back down. "Nothing. I was just being stupid and I made mistake," she licked a few of her fingers, and pressed them to my skin, trying to erase whatever she'd done. The feel of her wet hands on my back sent a jolt straight to my groin. I stifled what was going to be a very loud moan, and bit down hard on my pillow.

I felt the tip of the marker glide across my back once more, before the cap was clicked back on. "Okay, all done," she said, brushing her hands together in accomplishment.

"No more massaging," I frowned.

She jabbed me in the side of my ribs, gesturing for me to move off the bed. "Get up and look what I did."

"Ow! So bossy," I groaned, rubbing my side as I treaded up to the full length mirror that sat against the back of my bathroom door. I turned my back to the mirror and saw a collection of pictures on my right shoulder blade. There was the word 'Ravens' in bold black letters at the very top, with a basketball and what appeared to be a very lopsided hoop under it. Farther below that was my own name with some gay looking flowers and an apple tree surrounding it, to which I narrowed my eyes at.

"Nice Hales. Did anyone ever tell you, you should be an artist?"

She smacked me on the arm and rolled her eyes. "Shut up! I never promised it would look good."

I laughed and turned my eyes back to the mirror. "I think my favorite though, is this little squiggly line at the bottom here. That's some classy stuff. Oh, but wait...what's this?"

I moved closer to the mirror, noticing for the first time that under the squiggly line was some kind of imprint of a heart from the black ink of the marker that she had erased. Inside it was written something I couldn't quite make out. I moved even closer to the mirror.

"What? What's what? What are you looking at," Haley pushed herself up right next to me, as I started to make out the first word inside the heart.

"Under the squiggly line, you drew something and then erased it. What is it," I asked, and she slapped her hand over the picture on my back.

"Nothing! It's nothing," I tried to move her hand, but she resisted. "Nathan really, it's just...it's nothing."

I pried her hand from my back with a grin. "Stop it Hales, let me see." I squinted my eyes, zeroing in on the faded heart once more and this time I got it. Under the squiggly line was the heart with the words inside it reading: Haley loves Nathan.

I felt like I couldn't breathe. It was as if all the air in the room had suddenly been sucked out, and I couldn't move. Not even an inch. I don't know how long I stood there staring at those words, rereading them in my head over and over and over again. I don't even know how I stopped myself from staring, because at the time I'm pretty sure I could of stood there forever, just looking at them, nothing else getting through.

When I finally managed to turn back around, Haley was looking down at the ground, studying the tile on my bathroom floor with intense interest. I reached out and ran my thumb across her cheek.

"Haley..."

She glanced up at me, her beautiful brown eyes big and afraid. And I wanted to kick myself for making her look that way.

"It's not...it's nothing Nathan. Really. Just forget it. It was a mistake," she tried to wave off, giving me a weak smile, and stepping out of the bathroom.

"You don't mean that," I shook my head.

She folded her arms around her body, refusing to make eye contact with me. "No," she answered softly, and I smiled to myself. A huge, all encompassing smile that made my face stretch so wide it hurt.

_She loved me._

I came up behind her and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into me. She attempted to move away but I fought her.

"Haley come here. No, come here," I ordered, spinning her in my arms so that I could look down at her face. I waited until she was done being petulant and chose to meet my gaze. I spoke softly. "So this is thing: I wasn't entirely honest with you about why I wanted to the tattoo. Yeah it had to do with you getting yours and me wanting to get something that symbolized you and us...but more than that I wanted something about you, something of you to be a part of me. I wanted to be able to carry a piece of you with me wherever I went, so that I could look at it and remember how much I love you. How much I'm in love with you."

She smiled up at me like I'd just lifted the weight of the world off her shoulders. Her eyes were brimming with unshed tears, as she hugged me to her. "I love you," she whispered to me, looking more beautiful than anything I'd ever seen. "I love you too."

And this time she beat me to the punch, pulling my head down and crushing her mouth to mine. I felt her tongue prod at the opening of my lips and I easily let it in, grinning into the kiss. I could feel her hands all over my back, touching and rubbing and causing my jeans to become way too uncomfortable.

Wanting to hold more of her in my arms, I placed my hands on her ass and lifted her up into the air, so that she could twine her legs around my waist. I walked over to the bed, sucking on the sensitive skin under her neck as she reached down and slipped her hands under my shirt to massage my chest. A low moan escaped my throat, and I heard her giggle and then sigh as I cupped one of her breasts in my hand, kneading the soft flesh.

It went on like that for the next hour or so, the both of us kissing and touching and repeating the same three words to each other over and over. Until–much to my dismay–she pulled away from my mouth to rest her head upon my chest. Silently we just lay there together for a while, as I watched her twirl her finger around a loose string coming out of the hem from the bottom of my shirt.

"So what tattoo were you going to get anyway? You never told me?"

I rubbed one hand down her back, as my other hand captured hers, intertwining them together. "The date we first kissed," I said, and I didn't even have to look down to know she was smiling.


End file.
